


Starry Night (In Your Eyes)

by spookysp_ace (summermoonsdawn)



Series: their hearts are paintings [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, OHH there's a tea shop, Post-Canon, bokusemi is really just mentioned but does exist, college stuff, give me all the rairpairs dude, i don't know how to tag im so sorry, iwaaka - Freeform, kurodai is background, post-canon for the anime at least, this is my first work???, this was suppose to be SMALL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 09:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21116534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summermoonsdawn/pseuds/spookysp_ace
Summary: It's 3:44 in the morning.Iwaizumi really should be sleeping, considering he has a final in four hours.But when he meets Akaashi Keiji, ideas of sleep temporarily disappear.





	Starry Night (In Your Eyes)

**Author's Note:**

> yo what's up
> 
> this IS my first work i'm posting, but hopefully i'll more in the future...??
> 
> this was suppose to fucking be like 2k but nooooo it came out at like one word off of 8k, so have this pos i guess. there's i reason i decided to specialize in poetry instead of fiction for graduate school dudes
> 
> oh, and i did listen to this while writing some of it:
> 
> everything black
> 
> it really does not at all match the theme of the fic though, but unlike pluto is my fav, so check his music out
> 
> i am sorry for any mistakes found, like editing wise
> 
> ALSO BIG THANKS TO ELI YOU'RE AMAZING I APPRECIATE YOU AND ALL THE TIME YOU PUT INTO LOOKING AT THIS THANKS *intense sobbing* 
> 
> \- bek

**** _ I’ve closed my eyes, _

_ But I won’t sleep tonight _

_ \-- _ Unlike Pluto,  _ Everything Black _

It was 3:44 in the morning. And Iwaizumi had a final in just four more hours, at a dreadful 8 am. After countless hours of studying, he had finally decided to lay down and try to catch a couple hours of sleep. But there were chemical equations, graphs, coesigns and particles swarming his frontal cortex; and the further he tried to force himself to fall asleep, the worse it got. 

He swung his legs out of his bed glaring with exhaustion to his window where the curtains were spread to the city night. After rubbing his face, he flicked on the lamp beside his bed, and scanned the room for a pair of pants and a shirt. With minimal searching he pulled on a pair of grey joggers, and the black shirt he’d had on earlier in the day, then walked out of his room. 

The light in the hall was off, and the light behind Oikawa’s door was off as well. Usually there would still be the flashing glow of his T.V. or the light hum of conversation coming from his laptop, but it was strangely silently. He couldn’t help but find the lack of noise jarring, even though he should have been comforted that his roommate was finally getting some sleep. 

In the living room and beyond was even more quiet, but he headed straight to the door. Once he’d slipped on a pair of sneakers, he grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and he made his way into the night.

With his hands stuffed into his pockets, he made his way down the street. Most of the small shops lining the street away from his apartment were closed, say for the bakery that would probably be starting up soon, but at a quarter to four how could he expect anyone to be open?

_ The library would be closed,  _ he thought, upon walking closer and closer to the school. He was a block away from the school, and he noticed what looked to be a little coffee or tea shop; the lights fell through the night-time crowded road and streets. He thought he may have walked past it once or twice on his way to school, but he’d never had the chance to go inside. 

As he got closer, he saw a few people sitting with computers, reading books, and so on. The sign of the little cafe read, “Sip This Tea,” and it was hanging on the outside with a smaller “open” sign on the dark wood door. With a quick look at his phone, it was indeed 3:59 in the morning.

He narrowed his eyes and headed inside. The door opened with a chime into the small space. The shop itself went further back than it looked on the outside, with a small stage and mic at the far end. There was a short counter with a few chairs, and then a few tables with mismatched chairs at each one; a sitting area with large bean bag chairs were closer to the door. There were several people in the space but not enough to call it packed our crowded--just a doze of them to give a lull to the atmosphere.

_ Huh,  _ he thought, but made his way to the counter. There were pendant lights hanging low, casting a warm glow over the counter top, and to the few people around.

“--visiting tomorrow, and I don’t know what to do,” someone said at the counter. Iwaizumi glanced at them while pulling his wallet out of his pocket. There was a man leaning against the counter, with a mug of coffee in front of him. He was tall, Iwaizumi could tell, even if he was crouched over; his shoulders weren’t without muscle either. And he had wild black hair, like he’d just rolled out of bed, and who knows, maybe he had. 

Iwaizumi almost couldn’t hold in his scoff, because somehow the other man reminded him of a cat. 

He looked away to the menu above the counter. On the board written in neat and scrawling letters was a list of their “Teas & Treats.” There was a smaller list of the shop’s coffees next to it.

Someone kneeling below the counter spoke up, “Konoha, you have a customer,” and this voice was soft but not without a direct edge.

The one who had previously been addressed came from a room around the corner of the counter; blond, with slim eyes that honed in on Iwaizumi immediately. “Oh? Have you come in before?”   
  


He cleared his throat, but it still came out in his natural, gruff timbre, “No. But I think I’ve seen it on my way to class before. Y’all open this late all the time?” 

Konoha hummed, not unashamed in his looking over Iwaizumi, “Every Thursday through Monday, 4 p.m. to 6 a.m. Do you know what you’d like?”

“Ah, just the bancha green tea,” he said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand, and putting a couple bills on the counter. 

“Hey Akaashi,” Konoha said, looking down to the man still kneeling--he thought--behind the counter. “Can you spare the pain-in-the-ass Kuroo five minutes and make this fine young man here a nice cup of tea?”

_ Kuroo?  _ He’d definitely heard that name before.

“Hey!” The man evidently named Kuroo glared at Konoha. “I’m having a real problem here!”   
  


(Iwaizumi startled at…) The man on the floor stood up slowly, “Your big gay crush is not an issue. Bokuto-san would have listened to you drone, why not call him?” The man had yet to look at Iwaizumi but Iwaizumi couldn’t keep his eyes off the other, who was strangely familiar. All dark hair and sharp gaze. Konoha was smirking still, and Iwaizumi immediately looked away.

“Because Bokuto stumbled into his relationship. Literally,” he chuckled, smile appearing on his face. “ _ Please, _ ‘Kaashi. I promise I can talk to Hana-sensei into switching your summer internship.”

“I don’t need your help with that. Try again,” Akaashi said, putting one hand on his hip.

“I’ll stop hiding your ugly sweaters.”

Akaashi took on a mildly offended look, “They’re not ugly. Stop touching them.”

“That mustard colored, llama print thing you have in your closet begs to differ.”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes, pinching his eyebrows in. “Try again or I won’t help.”

“You’re the devil,” Kuroo said, a pre-made smirk making its way onto his face. “I can get Bo to stop bothering you about meeting guys.”

This gave pause to Akaashi. His thin red lips pinched, and his eyebrows drew in the slightest. “You are such a pain in the ass.”   
  


The smirk on his face only grinned as Kuroo said, “Thank you. Now will you help or not?”

Akaashi sighed. “Fine. I will help you with your gay crisis.” It was at that moment he turned to look at Iwaizumi, “I apologize--” he started, then stopped, watching Iwaizumi for a moment--eyes gazing across his face, over his shoulders and down his arms. Under his pensive watch, Iwaizumi shifted a bit, leaning himself against the counter. Akaashi’s eyes made a slow trail to Konoha, where they landed in a glare. The blond man raised his hands up, starting to snicker as he walked away. Akaashi mumbled something unceremoniously, but shifted back, coming closer to Iwaizumi’s part of the counter.

Upon closer look, Akaashi had dark hair that was in short wisps around his head and face. He had feathered eyelashes, trapping emerald orbs. His straight nose lead down to the red lips had been speaking so nicely earlier. The man had a loose grey shirt, with a faded print of someone who looked like Edgar Allen Poe, and the words, ‘ _ I’m a POEt’  _ beneath the face. He was also wearing a washed-out pair of skinny jeans, ripped at the knees, giving to the length of his legs.

Nearby, Kuroo coughed.

Akaashi ignored him. “I apologize for that. How can I help you? Bancha green tea?”   
  


“Right,” Iwaizumi said, tilting his head a little because man this guy looked  _ so familiar,  _ but he couldn’t help but think that someone whose beauty was on par with Oikawa’s wouldn’t have made their presence known. And god, his eyes were  _ so  _ virescent. Though he couldn’t tell their exact shade, he didn’t dare lean that close over the counter. They were somewhere between thousands of emeralds and growing ferns. Speaking of a gay crisis, Iwaizumi was  _ definitely  _ having one. Thank whatever in the universe that made his infinitely not straight.

“Coming right up.”

Iwaizumi watched as Akaashi turned to the wall of shelves that held various canisters of tea leaves, before the curly haired man turned to one of the electric kettles to pour water into and turn on.

His movements were practiced and natural behind the counter, smooth like a dancer who’d danced even in the womb. Or a painter who painted for the sake of existing in art, (or a tree whose purpose was to grow, and wilt, but grow again in the spring). Or—

“It’s crazy that you don’t work here, man,” Konoha said from nearby, pulling him away from too dream-hazy and sleep needed thoughts. 

Akaashi huffed a little. “Konoha, please go away if you aren’t going to do any work. I swear, my aunts shouldn’t be paying you.” Konoha just shook his head and went to help someone further down the counter.

“And Kuroo,” Akaashi said, keeping a keen gaze on the kettle, “Sit down, breath. Work on the bio-chem paper you have. It’ll keep your mind occupied for right now. I promise I’ll help you, but you need to breath.”

Though Kuroo gave him a heavy sigh, he got up, and walked away to a table further away that had papers strown out, and a computer closed.

Iwaizumi turned back to sit in a chair at the counter, looking back to Akaashi who just shook his head slightly, returning to get a canister of tea leaves. Iwaizumi leaned his elbows on the counter and rested his chin on his hands. He rubbed at his forehead, and over his eyes, feeling the sleep in his eyelids.

He had far too much to do and he  _ needed  _ sleep for his exam in the morning, and then his other exam later in the day. Bio-mechanics and anatomy weren’t just going to learn themselves, and he couldn’t go through these courses again. One of the professors for his class was the dean of the department, so if he didn’t do well in this course then how would the professor ever think he was fully invested in his work? He’d made it this far in the semester, why the hell did everything suddenly feel like mayhem made over? Like the universe wanted to seriously fuck him over, throw him in the trashcan, and then still pull him out, only to burn him and--

“Are you okay?”

Akaashi’s soft voice pulled him back.

Iwaizumi opened his eyes to look at the deep green eyes that were suddenly closer. Akaashi had finished the cup of tea and placed it in front of him. Feeling warm under the other’s gaze, Iwaizumi shrugged off his jacket and placed it on his chair.

“Uh, yeah,” he cleared his throat a bit, while pushing up the sleeves of his dark shirt over his forearms. 

Akaashi’s eyes watched the movement slowly, before he pushed the cup of tea closer. “You seem a little tired… To phrase it lightly. More than our average night owls that come in at this time of night.” He rose a brow at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi kind of laughed a little, small smile on his lips. A little tired? He was fucking exhausted. It would have been kind of the universe to let him know that the third year of university was going to be so difficult. “Just exams. I’m sure you know the feeling?”

The other man gave him a kind smile, and holy fuck that smile could probably have cured the plague for all he cared. “Kind of. I’m double majoring in Literature and Photography, but this semester I have more photography classes than Lit. My two literature professors took our last exam and used it as our final grade, but then I have two final critiques for two of the three photo classes later in the week.”

Akaashi looked like someone who would be interested in literature, and photography. His fingers were long and lithe, like they were meant to hold ink wells and calligraphy pens. They were currently holding onto Akaashi’s own cup of tea, as his lips began to blow over the hot steam floating from the top.

Iwaizumi looked away from the very pink lips, and the shape of their bow, to keep from deciphering how the darkness of Akaashi’s hair only highlighted each of his features.

“Are you a third year?” He asked instead.

“No, second. You are though?”

Iwaizumi nodded, “Right. At the University of Tokyo.” 

“Really? Both Kuroo-san and I go there. I’m surprised we haven’t seen each other around…”

Iwaizumi thought back for a moment. Akaashi  _ did _ look really familar, so they must have seen each other around at some point, somehow. 

He shook his head out though, picking up his own cup of tea. The smell of bancha leaves rich, and a little nutty against his nose, but even sweeter against his taste buds. “Holy shit.”

“That good, huh?” Akaashi was looking at him with a small smirk playing on his lips again.

“Fucking Christ… I don’t think I’ve had tea like that since I was little.” When he was younger, and his grandmother was still around to carry him outside, while she named off different beetles in her garden. When the words ‘sports therapist’ didn’t even register as something real.

Akaashi had looked away, but was leaning his elbows on the counter, almost delicately holding the cup in his hands. 

“You don’t actually work here though?” Iwaizumi asked. Why would someone want to come in at this hour, just to make tea?

The other man shook his head. “No, my auntie and her wife own the place. They had been wanting to open a tea shop for a while, and I gave them the idea of doing a night themed one.”

_ Oh _ , that was pretty cool. “Well, good for them, and for you. Because this is fucking delicious.”

And  _ oh.  _ A real big  _ oh  _ for Iwaizumi with the pretty blush that swarmed into Akaashi’s cheeks like soft rosemallows. The crinkle that came to the edges of his eyes when he gave a bigger smile actually could have killed Iwaizumi in that moment and swallowed him into some pit.

_ I definitely need some sleep,  _ he thought to himself.  _ And definitely no more coffee at 1AM Hajime. _

“Thank you, uh… I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name before?”

“Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Iwaizumi-san. I’m Akaashi Keiji,” the smile on his face was relatively smaller than before, but no less real. 

Suddenly feeling a little embarrassed, he ducked his head a little bit. “Just Iwaizumi is fine.”

“Sorry, but you wouldn’t have happened to go to Aoba Johsai, did you?”

Iwaizumi blinked at him for a second, “Uh, yeah.”

“I went to Fukurodani, but became friends with several of the Miyagi team captains. Yahaba?”

_ That’s how I know him _ , Iwaizumi pondered. He could briefly remember watching the finals at Nationals that last year of high-school with the team on one of the school’s T.V.’s.

“Right, he took over as captain after we graduated. You’re friends?”

Akaashi chuckled, “Yeah. Along with some of the other ex-captains. It’s an interesting group but I think Yahaba mentioned you and some of the other third years before.”

“You said you went to Fukurodani?” Akaashi nodded. “Wow. Didn’t you guys win nationals?”

Akaashi hummed a little bit, but his cheeks regained the bit of pink they had earlier. “We were in the semi-finals my first year, won nationals my second year, and then again made semi-finals in my third.”

“That’s impressive,” Iwaizumi said, and it was, really, but he may have been saying it to see the pink tinge on Akaashi’s cheeks brighten. He’d heard of Fukurodani before, knew they’d won that last year of high-school, and knew Oikawa had talked about them afterwards--had maybe mentioned meeting a couple previous members. Iwaizumi watched Akaashi momentarily, as the other man worked and pulled at each of his fingers, before eventually finding solace in making another cup of tea. He wished not for the first time that he could have taken his team to Nationals. At least once. He wasn’t disappointed, or angry, it had been over three years now, but… Still, at moments like this, early into the morning, sleep deprived, a little stressed, and maybe in need of a snack, his mind wandered to all the things they could have done differently. Or trained for. 

“We had a good team, and a good ace,” Akaashi voiced. “Seijoh was a good team as well, I watched a couple of the games with Yahaba and Chikara.  _ And _ I know the Karasuno 3rd years at the time had been practicing and working hard to overcome your team.” Akaashi tone was hushed compared to the rest of their conversation. While there had been a noticeable peaceful atmosphere created by the time of night alone, the air shifted.

Iwaizumi looked away from Akaashi’s hands up to his face, where Akaashi was now looking intently right back. His eyes were attesting, and far too sure for so fucking early in the morning. Like they had settled on an idea, confirming and sustainable.

“Your team had amazing players, and play style you wanted to sit and watch. Without those games, wins and losses equally, you may not have turned up in this tea-shop.”

Iwaizumi huffed a little bit, a crook of a smile pulling on his face, “It is some damn good tea.”

“Damn straight,” Akaashi smirked, placing another cup of tea in front of him. 

A moment later, the chair next to him pulled back and Kuroo sat down again. He was clutching his own cup of dark coffee.

“Are you ready to talk now?” Akaashi asked, pulling his gaze from Iwaizumi to Kuroo.

Kuroo nodded, looking at the two of them. “Daichi is going to be visiting for a few days, since his exams ended earlier than ours did. He’s visited before, but it just feels different this time. Instead of for a couple days like before, its most of this week. I mean, he’s going to visit with a cousin who’s going to Chuo-dai for a little bit, but still. What do I do?”

“You said it was Daichi that was coming to visit?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Yeah, Sawamura. You know him?”

“I went to Aoba Johsai, vice-captain. Our teams played against each other a couple times, and after they came back from nationals we tried to set up practice games between the teams. Your Kuroo, right? Nekoma’s middle blocker and captain?” Iwaizumi asked. The Miyagi teams’ had set up a small group chat during the end of their third year, and tried to help the second years create their own group for practices. The result came with tentative friendships and more chaos than Iwaizumi really needed, especially considering some teams friendly (or, uh, not so friendly rivalries). But three years later, he couldn’t say he regretted the decision. He’d also heard a little bit about said middle blocker from Daichi himself.

“Yeah. You were on the team with Oikawa right?”

“Can’t seem to get away from that asshole. He’s going to Waseda right now.”

Kuroo nodded, “And you’re going to…?”

“University of Tokyo.”

Kuroo looked back to Akaashi, probably raising one of his eyebrows, but Iwaizumi couldn’t honestly tell with the fringe of hair covering part of Kuroo’s face.

Kuroo opened his mouth as if to say something but--

“Please, I swear, it is too early for you to say something stupid.”

“Mean, Akaashi! I wasn’t even going to say anything.”

“You were thinking it though, and that’s the problem,” Akaashi said while he gathered tea cups off the counter and handed them off to Konoha.

Kuroo sighed, but sat at the counter, almost as if in defeat. “Aren’t you suppose to be helping me?”

Akaashi made a face as if he was thinking about it, eyebrows pinched in, hand cupping his chin, “Am I?”

Iwaizumi chuckled, “This is about your uh, ‘big gay crush’ right? Um, on Daichi?”

“Dude,” Kuroo groaned, “I need someone to be on my side here. Since even simple bribes won’t convince Akaashi.”

“That’s because you’re a pain in the ass.”

“ _ Rude-- _ ”

“I think he’s talked about you before. Maybe more than a few times,” Iwaizumi interjected, trying to keep a smile to himself.

Kuroo stopped. He slowly turned to Iwaizumi. “What?”

“Though I don’t think I would have recognized you without the hair…”

“Man, remember how you’re supposed to be on my team?”

“I think,” Akaashi started, “Without even asking, that everyone would automatically be on Sawamura-san’s team.”

Kuroo scoffed, “Now listen here, I come into this fine establishment for some good coffee, but instead! Instead, I am being harassed and bullied.”

“You’ve gotten your coffee. And our, rather unwilling friendship, came with that warning label,” Akaashi said while gave the other man a withering glare.

Iwaizumi, while watching them, tried to run through the past few conversations he’d had with Sawamura. The two of them—hell, everyone—was incredibly busy at the end of the semester, with finals, studying, projects and as a third year college students they were coming closer to the “outside world.” He knew that Sawamura had chosen a particularly difficult path by trying to pursue marine biology, and after receiving a scholarship from Yamagata university, he almost couldn’t refuse the offer. Even then, amongst the overworked and overloaded sort of atmosphere they’d had, anytime the two of them talked, somehow Sawamura still worked in something about Kuroo. Whether it was how they had been on the phone for over two hours and Sawamura ended up missing over twenty texts from a group project chat; or the one time Sawamura had wondered, at three o’clock in the morning induced by panic for a research assignment, had wandered into the Miyagi team chat and somehow proceeded to ask everyone if they thought Kuroo’s hair was as soft as it looked. And then if his eyes were gold, hazel or dark brown (Sawamura had also settled in that chat that yeah, they were all three, it just depended on the lighting).

Iwaizumi didn’t think Kuroo had anything to worry about. After hearing Sawamura of all people wondering about the color of someone’s eyes, Iwaizumi had known something was up.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, but you might want to hurry up, or someone else if going to end up snatching him,” Iwaizumi said, then took a finishing gulp of his tea.

Kuroo and Akaashi both turned to him. Akaashi had a strange glitter in his eyes, but Kuroo looked skeptical. “What do you know?”

Iwaizumi shrugged, trying to pass as nonchalant, but the sleep in his bones and eyes was starting to take over from the cups of tea. “The way he talks about you is…”

Kuroo perked up, “Oh? He talks about me frequently?”

“More than he talks about some other people, for sure.”

Kuroo looked back to Akaashi, as if needing some strange form of confirmation. Akaashi sighed, but took Kuroo’s mug and poured him another cup.

“Sawamura-san is a really nice guy, Kuroo,” Akaashi said. “We have talked a few times when he’s visited before, and he does seem quite enamored with you, for whatever reason,” Akaashi said. And though his words were teasing, the glint in his eyes was serious. “And I doubt he’d take a three and a half hour train ride each time just because he wants to be friends. And Iwaizumi-san is right, someone needs to make a move or the two of you are going to regret it later on. Besides, when he visits plenty of people ask if the two of you are already together.”

Kuroo looked into his cup and said, “You think we can do it?”

“If anyone could, it would be you and Sawamura-san. He seems incredibly resilient, and I know for certain that you are as well.”

Kuroo, though reluctantly, nodded. His shoulders were hunched, making his tall figure seem smaller, but only after a moment the man stood up, stretched out his long limbs and came back to himself. He steeled himself, and then nodded to both of them. “Thanks guys. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Iwaizumi continued to watch the exchange, while Akaashi took Kuroo’s coffee and began to pour it into a to-go cup. Kuroo gathered his things, hastily, taking the cup of coffee, and without more than a wave, he left.

Akaashi turned and gave Iwaizumi a smile, before saying, “Thank you for that. As stubborn and intimidating he can come off to some people, he’s just as insecure as the rest of us.”

“Not a problem. I’m happy to help if it means Sawamura will talk about Kuroo’s hair to Kuroo instead.”

Akaashi laughed, vibrant and warm, but then turned to Konoha who’d come from helping a couple of other people who’d come in. 

“Come on, JiJi,” Konoha started, grabbing a jacket from behind the counter and throwing it to Akaashi. “You don’t actually work here. And I don’t want your aunties chewing me out for the choices you choose to make.”

Akaashi scoffed, catching the jacket and slipping his arms through the sleeves.

From behind the counter he grabbed a small square bag, and he put the strap over his shoulder. Iwaizumi tilted his head a little at it, and he asked, “Is that a camera bag?”

Akaashi turned his gaze back to Iwaizumi and nodded. “I was out trying to take some nighttime photos but decided to drop by here. Noticed Konoha wasn’t doing his job--”

“Dude really?”

“--and didn’t think it would hurt to have some tea before leaving.”

Behind Akaashi, Konoha just rolled his eyes.

“Oh,” Akaashi started, “Don’t forget to text Auntie that we’re out of the cinnamon plum.”

“You got it boss-man.”

Akaashi didn’t grace him with a reaction but turned to Iwaizumi as they both walked out the doors. “Do you live in the area?”

“Just a few blocks that way.”

“Oh, me too.”

The night was no cooler or warmer than when Iwaizumi had stepped out of his apartment earlier. And considering it was early December, in Tokyo no less, the fact that it wasn’t freezing was a little shocking.

Iwaizumi scratched the back of his head, looking in the direction of his apartment. Feeling a clutch in his chest, something tight and nervous, and  _ fuck  _ he knows he doesn’t get  _ nervous.  _ Not usually. He’s always been the rock, the one others leaned on and being embarrassed and flustered just to ask to walk someone home was definitely something Oikawa would make fun of him for later. As well as Matsukawa and Hanamaki, those shitheads.

Akaashi, seemingly unbothered by the crisis Iwaizumi was having, messed with the strap of his camera bag while they stood there for a moment. He lifted his head though to look at Iwaizumi, and under the streetlights the green of Akaashi’s eyes was barely visible, dark and swirling with an emotion that he couldn’t exactly pick out. 

Long shadows cast from Akaashi’s eyelashes across his cheekbones, as he titled his head, almost in question. The dark shadows feathered and swooped across his lovely features--

_ Who the fuck says lovely?  _ Iwaizumi thought, trying to distract himself for the insistent beating behind his ribcage.  _ Come on, just ask him-- _

“Iwaizumi-san--”

“Akaashi--”

They stared back at one another, Iwaizumi only now feeling more flustered, but hey, now he had to do it.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat, then pushed his hands into the pockets of his joggers, “Could I walk you home?” He made himself turn away from Akaashi, because holy shit what if he said  _ no-- _

“Sure.”

Iwaizumi had to do a double-take, but now Akaashi was the one who was looking away, and currently messing with his fingers again. Pulling at them, almost tight, pressing his index fingers into his palms and rubbing over them.

Was he nervous?

The hesitant pit in Iwaizumi’s stomach lightened only a tad, before he smiled a little bit. “Okay, let’s go then.”

As the began to walk away, the light from the tea-shop left them, and they were bathed entirely by the Tokyo nightlife. In a city, noise was never completely gone. Not like it was in Miyagi were everything was almost entirely rural homes and small town centers.

“Earlier, you didn’t say what you were going to school for,” Akaashi wondered out loud, voice delicate, steady and soothing.

“Sports medicine. Both the best and worst decision of my life, probably.”

Akaashi chuckled, another velvet sound, one Iwaizumi wished he could be the cause of more often. “Why’s that?”

“Well, it’s difficult. And I know I can do it, but sometimes, like tonight, it’s really exhausting.”

Akaashi hummed before answering, “And then it's easy to wonder if you’re doing the right thing, doing what you really want to do, making the right choice.”

Iwaizumi nodded. And honestly, yes. That was exactly it. Like, would he be better suited for something else? Would he be able to find a decent job? The first year wasn’t too bad as he went through his basics, but now he was getting into his higher level courses and it felt like they were trying to beat the shit out of him. With an actual baseball bat.

“Especially with my finals in the morning, or the one in a few hours. I know the material well enough, but I know from other students in the program that this professor likes to make the final exam some sort of hardcore test of respect or something,” Iwaizumi said. “It’s like if you don’t do well in this course, on the last exam, then she’s particular about letting students take any of her other courses. And since she’s the dean of the department, she’s in full authority to do that.”

Akaashi listened, now with his own hands pushed into his jean pockets. Head tilted towards Iwaizumi though, hair wisping around in the light breeze flowing through the street corridor.

Iwaizumi let out a long breath before continuing, “I have a B in the course, so it isn’t as if I’m doing terrible. And unless I actually tried to fail the final, I’m not going to fail.”

“You’re worried about the professor though, and her opinion of you. Especially if you have to be in other classes that she also does.”

“Right.”

They walked for a moment in comfortable silence, but Iwaizumi could feel Akaashi thinking. And maybe Iwaizumi shouldn’t have poured that out to someone he’d only known for a couple hours, but god he was so tired.

It was only a moment later, after passing through a crosswalk and under the bright pink and red lights of a flashing billboard, before Akaashi answered. “You’re doing well in the class now. And if you’ve made your best effort, then the professor will see that. If she is truly a good professor, then she’ll have paid more attention than her students probably think. And you said you know the material for the exam, that’s what’ll matter for her. And that you’ve done well in the class up until now.”

Akaashi turned to him with a small smile gracing his features, “Besides. If you fuck it up, just come back to the tea shop. We’ll make sure to give you so much that you forget you were ever in the class.”

Iwaizumi laughed, feeling it behind his ribcage and in his stomach, grin coming easily to his face. “You’re gonna spoil me with that tea.”

“I can definitely try.”

“You don’t work there though, how will I ever get Akaashi-premium-made-tea again?”

Akaashi smirked, “Ask for my number, and we’ll see.”

_ Well, shit, Hajime,  _ he thought,  _ You were doomed from the start, huh? _

“And,” Akaashi continued, “I actually work at the library on campus. Usually in the evenings until close, so feel free to drop by. Since most finals will be over on Wednesday, after that it’ll be pretty quiet.”

The library?

“That’s where I’ve seen you!” Iwaizumi said, shocked for a moment. He spent enough time in the library on campus, he must have seen him in passing or from a far. How on fucking earth had he not remebered seeing Akaashi?

“Oh?” Akaashi noted. As they passed under more streetlights, warm and yellow in their glow, mixing with the shine from store signs, Iwaizumi could have sworn Akaashi looked pleased. “Good to know I wasn’t the only one. I thought you had looked familiar, but then just thought it was because of the volleyball circle.”

“Do you still play volleyball?” He found himself asking, curious. Especially as Akaashi pulled on his index fingers again, rubbing the digits together. Those were definitely a setters hands--long, with trimmed nails, well taken care of.

“Ah, occasionally with our group, but not for the university. Volleyball will continue to have a spot in my heart, but I’d never intended to take it further.”

Iwaizumi understood that. Letting go of volleyball, competitively, had been a tough decision with a talking to his mom, Matsu and Makki, and then Oikawa. While Oikawa had been quiet about the decision, he took it with understanding.

“When I got into volleyball,” Iwaizumi said, letting a long breath out, “it was just because Oikawa needed a friend to do it with. I didn’t expect it to create as large of a mark as it did.”

Akaashi hummed next to him, but looking over, he’d stopped wringing his fingers with one another and had taken to holding onto his camera bag. “You’re welcome to join our matches whenever you want. We need another power hitter or two. I’m sure they’ve played against one another in matches before, but Oikawa-san could join as well. Bokuto-san would probably enjoy it a lot.”

“And you?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you enjoy it? If we joined?” Iwaizumi asked, looking ahead, but hands tight with nerves in his pockets.

“Ah,” Akaashi stated, and Iwaizumi could hear the smile starting. “I think I’d very much like if you joined, in particular, Iwaizumi-san.”

Iwaizumi felt his throat clutch like there was a piece of string stuck in zipper, and his voice was the zipper, unable to move. Thankfully he realized Akaashi had stopped in front of a tall and looming apartment building, giving him a moment to recover.

“That,” he started, finally, and with a smile, “Would be great.” 

Akaashi looked to Iwaizumi, his eyes searching over his face. He found himself hoping that the warmth on his face was from the wind biting on his cheeks, and not a blush.

“Thank you for walking me back, Iwaizumi-san,” Akaashi said as they moved a little closer to his building. “Maybe after your done with exams, come see me at the library, and we can get coffee afterwards.” 

Iwaizumi felt heat rise to his face, and coughed a little. “Uh, sure.”

“Unless I misread the situation…?”

“No, no!” Iwaizumi said quickly, feeling abashed. “I, uh, no, that would be great.”

Now, Akaashi was carefully keeping his own eyes from looking at Iwaizumi. He noticed that Akaashi’s grip on his camera bag had loosened significantly, from the almost death-like hold he’d on it through part of their walk. 

“Here,” Akaashi said after a moment, reaching into his bag and bringing out a loose piece of paper and pen. Iwaizumi watched with a racing heart as Akaashi scribbled a number down, and then pressed the paper into his hand. “Feel free to message me. Though, maybe after your exams and after you get some rest. I doubt you want any distractions.”

“You? A distraction?” Iwaizumi chuckled, taking the number and with his own tight hold on it, he pushed his hands back into pockets. “That’s believable.”

While a small blush made its way back into Akaashi’s cheeks, there was also a smirk.

_ Shit,  _ he thought for the nth time that night.

“I’ll be as much of a distraction as I can be,  _ after  _ finals. Maybe that’s enough incentive to do well on your exams, Iwaizumi-san?”

Iwaizumi, a little stunned but also a little satisfied, nodded, “Definitely.”

“Then goodnight, Iwaizumi-san. And thank you for walking me back.”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi said, watching Akaashi turn away and head into the apartment complex. With a small wave behind him, Akaashi’s dark hair and lithe form disappeared, leaving Iwaizumi to take in the chill of the night.

Iwaizumi counted down from ten before turning away, shoulders hunched, still exhausted, but with a pleasant warmth under his cheeks and sitting under his chest. When he got back to his shared apart, just two more blocks away, he was able to climb into bed and sleep soundly.

Well. Before his alarm went off two hours later.

——

((…. Seeing him at the library…))

‘iwaizumi didn’t think he’d see akaashi for a while, but he came into the library at the end of the week to turn in some rented books. And Akaashi’s familiar face was behind the desk, checking someone else’s books.’

Akaashi had previously mentioned that he worked at the library at their school, but Iwaizumi hadn’t expected that he’d actually see him, especially before the end of the semester.

But as Iwaizumi walked into the library to turn in some of his rented books, Akaashi’s familiar face came into view right behind the desk he was headed to. Kuroo, along with another guy—whose hair was in a no better position than Kuroo’s—happened to be near the desk, chatting with Akaashi.

Even from the distance Iwaizumi stood, he could hear a majority of the commotion and conversation going on between the three. 

“And then! Bro he, he just pulls out a whole microwave!” the other man let out a boisterous laugh, sending Kuroo into another fit of cackling.

Akaashi had a hand on his hip, standing in a slight contrapposto, keen eyes only slightly narrowed with mirth sitting on the surface. His eyes caught Iwaizumi’s though, shoulders falling relaxed. 

Iwaizumi laughed a little bit as he came closer. It was pretty late in the evening, but there weren’t all that many students in the library considering it was the end of finals week and most of the students had likely gone home or away for the winter break.

Akaashi sent a thorny glare in Kuroo and the one with two-toned hair’s direction, and in a flash, he reached over the counter to grab a hold of their ears.

“ _ Ow, ow!  _ Akaashi, gentle please!” Kuroo whined.

He pulled at their ears until they were almost laying across the counter. With the smallest satisfied smile, Akaashi turned his attention away from the two, but held tight to their ears. “Iwaizumi-san, pleasure to see you again.”

Iwaizumi came up to the desk and put the three books down on the counter top, between the two guys, and gazed over the situation at hand. He felt in some way he was watching children getting reprimanded by their parental figure. But even more, he was reminded of Hanamaki and Matsukawa when they were causing their usual chaos.

_ Matsun and Makki never need to meet these two. Ever,  _ he thought. If a person’s soul could grimace, he knows his would have.

“Ah, Iwaizumi,” Kuroo said in a voice that meant trouble. The scheming in his tone was easily ignored, considering his face was still almost pressed into the counter. Kuroo tried to angle a look back to Akaashi with a conniving smile, and opened his mouth to say something but the other guy jumped in.

“Akaashi! Is this the guy you said could take me in arm wrestling?” He asked with impossibly wide eyes, considering his position. Iwaizumi raised his brow, while studying the other man. He had double toned hair of black and white, styled in a way that definitely grouped him together with Kuroo. He also had broad shoulders, and overall muscular form, worthy of being a volleyball player. He  _ had  _ to be the Bokuto that he’d heard about several times from Oikawa, and then from Akaashi earlier in the week, as well as who knew how many times just in passing and in volleyball magazines and such.

Akaashi scoffed, “I never said anything—”

“Oh I think he did,” Kuroo edged on. “Definitely once or twice.”

Iwaizumi turned away from Bokuto’s almost glowing stare, to Akaashi, who was trying hard to press his lips into a thin line. 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto called out again, “You should have introduced us sooner.”

Akaashi turned his eyes to the ceiling and mumbled something like  _ gods please help me. _

“Both of you,” he said, after a big breath, “you realize this is a library, yes?”

Kuroo lifted his head, chin now on the counter, looking up to Akaashi, smile yet to have wiped from his face. “You’re just avoiding us now, and the topic at hand—  _ ow!  _ Will you  _ please  _ stop pulling on my ear?”

“Oooh sounds kinky,” Bokuto said.

Kuroo wiggles his eyebrows, while looking back and forth between Iwaizumi and Akaashi.

Iwaizumi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, and then putting his other hand into his jean’s pockets. He cleared his throat before saying, “Maybe you’d know what kinky was if you confessed to Daichi.”

Kuroo gasped, utter misfortune taking over his features, but Bokuto absolutely  _ died  _ with laughter taking over his features. 

Akaashi even leaned his head back, letting go of the boy’s ears, and let out one of the most amazing laughs Iwaizumi thought he’d ever heard. But Akaashi already had him enthralled to begin with, so he may have just been biased.

With a small snort, Akaashi covered up his mouth. There were crinkles around his eyes, and mirth in layers upon layers sitting in his—under this lighting,  _ green _ —orbs as he flashed looks between all of them. 

“Ah, Kuroo-san, I think you’re losing your title as provocation master.”

“I’ll have you know, by tomorrow this time, I’ll have definitely confessed.”

Bokuto straightened up to his full height, but patted Kuroo on the shoulder. “I believe in you bro!”

“See!” Kuroo started, “Why do you all have such little faith in me?”

Akaashi rolled his eyes while taking the books Iwaizumi had put down, and checked them in. 

Iwaizumi took the moment to ignore whatever nonsense Kuroo and Bokuto started again, with another fit of laughter, to scoot closer to the counter. 

“I assume your finals are done?” Akaashi asked.

Thankfully, he’d finished his last final earlier that day, but had been caught up in whatever antics Oikawa had found himself in, something like  _ But Iwa-chan! They said aliens weren’t real and I  _ have  _ to make sure they know they’re wrong. _ It had been… an interesting day to say the least.

“Yeah, what about you?”

“Definitely. And seeing as we’re both free, mind if I cash in my offer for coffee?” Akaashi leaned on his elbows over the counter to Iwaizumi, flashing him another smile. 

Iwaizumi was almost tempted to say that’d he’d do whatever Akaashi asked but he dispelled that thought quickly, and he really couldn’t blame the ideas on being sleep deprived and stress induced.

“I’d love to,” he answered. And there really wasn’t any use hiding the smile he felt growing on his face.

“Give me a few minutes and we can head out.”

The  _ oooh  _ and  _ aww  _ from Kuroo and Bokuto were nowhere near quiet, so Akaashi turned to them once again with a look so fierce he thought the two were going to cower. 

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said slowly, “I’m aware that you’re going back with Semi-san to visit his family for a few days. I’m not afraid to send Semi-san’s brother that one video from first year.”

Bokuto’s face fell through seven different levels of despair, “‘Kaaaaashi! No! You said you wouldn’t ever bring that up again!”

“And Kuroo,” Akaashi turned his steady gaze on said man, “I know Sawamura is out visiting his cousin right now, but I’m sure I could do a couple things to get him here.”

Kuroo looked wary, but said “You wouldn’t.”

Akaashi’s eyes said he would, without a doubt. “Please no more disturbing the library. Go cause your nightly shenanigans elsewhere. Better yet, with Semi-san and Sawamura-san.”

“Fine fine, but let me know if I need to beat this guy up,” Bokuto said. Iwaizumi looked at the other man, only to be on the receiving end of a fixed stare. Then Kuroo also gave him a look saying  _ touch him the wrong way and we’ll both know about it.  _

Iwaizumi just dipped his head a little bit to the two of them, acknowledging the silent threat. He was also a little pitiful for anyone who dared to try mess with Akaashi, romantically or otherwise. Not that Akaashi didn’t seem like he couldn’t take care of himself-- _ he damn well could-- _ but with friends like Kuroo and Bokuto, he didn’t want to find out the actions behind the threats. 

The two guys walked away, without looking back, and out the library doors, where darkness was taking over the skies. 

“Sorry about them,” Akaashi said, but there was a smile on his face that betrayed any feeling of sorrow.

“No need. They kind of remind me of Matsun and Makki, two of my other friends, who’d no doubt do the same thing. The four of them really don’t need to meet though.”

“Oh? They sound like fun.”

“They’re an interesting pair, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Akaashi took off the name tag that Iwaizumi hadn't noticed was clipped to his shirt, and then disappeared through a door behind the library’s counter. When he came back, a couple minutes later, he had a long grey jacket pulled on over his black sweater.

“Kuroo and Bokuto-san,” he said, jumping back to the topic, “are their own special kind of interesting. But I’m the same way. I don’t know where I’d be without them shaking up life occasionally.” The undeniably soft smile on Akaashi’s face agreed with the sentiment.

Iwaizumi nodded, understanding all too well. A life without Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, would be a life he didn’t want to touch. And maybe, after some time, Akaashi and his group of friends could become that as well. 

Together they stepped out of the library, leaving the quietness of the books and their shelved homes, into the Tokyo night again. The day was a lot colder than the previous time they’d met, and louder considering is was dinner time for most of Tokyo’s residents. 

With a breath of air, and condensation from Akaashi’s mouth, the man brushed his shoulder gently against Iwaizumi’s. Whether by accident or not, Iwaizumi didn’t turn away from the contact, sending a warm smile to Akaashi.

“There’s a coffee shop I love just a few streets down if don’t mind traveling a little bit?”

“Not at all,” Iwaizumi answered, meeting Akaashi’s gaze. As they started to walk, the street lights were turning on, and the brightness of billboards intensified in the night. Green lights flashed over his Akaashi’s eyes, followed by blues and yellows, creating an ethereal painting over his face. But no painting could ever compare to the existence behind Akaashi Keiji.

Under the observation of the moon, they continued to walk down the street, past familiar stores and shops, once again being cast in a nightly illumination.

_ Baby you, should come with me _

_ I’ll take you to the dark side _

_ \-- _ Unlike Pluto,  _ Everything Black _

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaah well there you go. sorry it wasn't like... a lot? i don't know, i still feel it's kinda basic but whatever
> 
> i now know that the fics in my WIPs that were suppose to be "a little long" are gonna be real assholes when i sit down to finish them.
> 
> also sorry, coding is a bitch and there's another reason i changed my undergrad major from animation. so sorry if the links don't work >.<
> 
> if you liked it, or just want to scream about haikyuu and rairpairs with me, check me out on tumblr:
> 
> spookysp_ace
> 
> -bek


End file.
